


Plans For A Quiet Saturday

by aceoftwos



Series: locard's exchange principle [2]
Category: Magic Kaito, 名探偵コナン | Detective Conan | Case Closed
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-19
Updated: 2015-03-19
Packaged: 2018-03-18 13:56:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3572180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aceoftwos/pseuds/aceoftwos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kudo Shinichi has a day off for the first time in months because his co-workers are suffering from the delusional idea that he needs to 'get some'. They figure letting him roam free on Valentine's Day will do the trick. Shinichi has other ideas. Namely, a date with coffee, books, and  his bed. </p><p>Things do not go as planned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Plans For A Quiet Saturday

**Author's Note:**

> this has been revised like three times on three separate valentine's days. at least i'm pretty sure. i don't particularly like valentine's day so i never work up the energy to write anything for it.

Somewhere in the house there’s a loud bang, and then the sharp sound of something metallic hitting the floor. Groggily, you wonder why in the hell Ran (because it has be her, your parents are in Paris, and no one else has a key) is in your house at… you glance at the clock and swear colorfully. Four o’clock in the morning. On a Saturday. The first day in months that you’ve got off. You drag off the covers and sit up, shivering. That, or a burglar has somehow managed to work his way past the double locked windows and triple locked doors. Unlikely, but not completely impossible, you suppose.

Descending the stairs is slow going, and you're able to hear muttering as you make your way to the kitchen, where the intruder has apparently set up camp. To your surprised, the voice is distinctly male. Maybe you're being robbed after all. You peer through the doorway into the kitchen, and find none other than Kaitou Kid sitting at the breakfast table, leg propped up on a stool, apparently making a house of cards. You stare at each other for a minute, then he says, “Oh, fancy meeting you here.”

* * *

“‘Fancy meeting you here’?” he repeats. “It’s my house!”

“Well, yes,” you admit, “but—”

“Wait, this is  _my_  house. Why are you in my house? You couldn’t po─!” He stops, considers a moment, then corrects himself. “No, you  _could_  be here, but what could you possibly  _want_  in my house?”

You're about to explain myself, about the fact that you had crash landed on his roof after a heist that ended in a dislocated knee as well as several nasty grazes and one bullet wound from a set of snipers. (Lady Luck had her attention on other matters, obviously.) You'd only broken in to use his first aid kit, since you figured he probably wouldn't mind. Then you got stranded when the dislocation turned out to be worse than you'd originally thought. 

Suddenly understanding floods his expression, and he mutters, “Ah, this is a dream. That makes more sense.”

“What?” A dream? That’s a new one. You’ve had people try to throw things at you, faint, even squeal like children... But no one has tried to convince themselves they were dreaming. Minus one occasion with Hakuba, but that was more wishful thinking on his part. 

“Well,” he says, “since it’s a dream…” He trails off a moment then beckons to you, a tired smile on his face. You hesitate a moment, then move a bit closer. After all, he's not going to hurt you. Kudo Shinichi, Mr. detectives-who-do-nothing-to-stop-suspects-from-committing-suicide-are-murderers? Not likely. He steps towards you, hands reaching upwards. You grab onto his wrists and jerk them back down. What the hell is he trying to do?

Then he catches your eye, looking sincere and kind and altogether much too pretty. For a moment, you consider it. You're tired of keeping secrets. And you know so many of his, it'd only be fair, right? You  _were_  planning to tell him eventually… You drop his hands. He reaches up again and sets the hat down of the counter. You take off the monocle yourself and set it down on the rim of the hat with unsteady hands. His blue eyes gaze seem to look straight into your soul with a depth of seriousness that's just a bit unnerving.

The wait is terrifying.

He stands there, just looking, not saying a word. Then abruptly he reaches up and grabs you behind the neck, gently and firmly dragging your lips down to his. You're too surprised to protest. This was  _definitely_  not what you had in mind. Still, not exactly unpleasant. Far from it, really. You're still partially in shock when he slides to the floor. When it finally registers, your initial reaction is panic. Then rational thought takes over and you realize he's just fallen asleep. A chuckle escapes, “A dream, huh? Not if I can help it.” 

* * *

The sun is  _way_  too bright. You stare, unseeing, at the ceiling and debate getting up. Coffee would definitely be nice, but you aren't sure you really want to get out of bed yet. Still, you have to at some point. With a sigh, you flip back the covers and start walking, taking care on the stairs so you don't trip in your pre-coffee haze. A yawn forces its way past your lips and you conclude that you haven’t gotten nearly enough sleep. Too many cases, too few hours in a day, and far too many police officers all too happy to shove unsolved mysteries in your direction. 

Coffee, then back to bed with a couple of good books. No murders for you today, no sir. 

You're about to pour yourself a cup when the doorbell rings obnoxiously. You set the carafe down gently and shuffle over to the door, about ready to murder whoever it is. Not only do you have the knowledge to successfully make it unsolvable, but at the moment you also possess the resolve for it.

Really, is one day to yourself too much to ask? You flip the locks and undo the chain, grumbling all the while. 

Behind the door is a man about your age, a little taller maybe, with wild brown hair and a goofy looking grin. You're about to send him away, when you notice that he’s holding a bouquet of deep red roses and there’s just a hint of a blush on his cheeks. Not to mention he looks as nervous as a kid caught with his hands in the cookie jar. For a moment, you just stare. Then the details of last night’s dream flood your mind in crystal clear definition. The careful way you took off Kid’s hat, the monocle lying beside it. Kid’s anxious face. The exact same face as the man on your porch. The started look in his eyes when you kissed him. Blood rushes to your cheeks. Your eyes widen and so does his grin. 

“The one and only Kuroba Kaito at your service.” The newly introduced thief presents the roses with a theatrical bow as you stand there, stunned. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Tantei-kun.” 

You're still fighting to get back your composure when you ask, “Why..?” 

“To ask you on a date,” he says, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “If you'd like.” 

“Of course,” you find myself saying. There go your plans for a quiet Saturday. 

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. shinichi actually had no idea it was valentine's day. he thought it was next week. 
> 
> 2\. kaito and shinichi's next valentine's day involves bad movies, worse poetry, and very little in the way of clothing. also lots of chocolate bc kaito is fucking addicted. 
> 
> 3\. ran showed up later to drag him out of bed and maybe try to get him out of the house for a "we're both single so let's just go out and have fun and ignore all the giant red hearts everywhere". she found them in the bedroom, kaito sitting there critiquing pretty much every piece of clothing that shinichi owns and refusing to let him out of the house if he's not wearing smth decent.


End file.
